The Family Business
The collar of his button-down was stuck to the back of his neck by sweat. He was overheating in his suit even with the temperature outside failing to ascend past thirty degrees.
He leaned forward, squinting through the dim lighting of the room, and rested his palms against the wooden top of the credenza. And his heart raced as he pulled the crystal top from the decanter and poured himself a drink.
He brought the glass to his lips and sipped… and then sipped again, appreciating the burn it brought to the back of his throat.
Another glass and he was sure he would be feeling the buzz, but no amount of scotch could erase what he'd learned tonight.
Faint voices filtered in from the party when the door to his father's study opened, but they disappeared just as quickly. He didn't bother turning around— only three people outside the walls of this office had the right to enter.
"You shouldn't be drinking that. You're underage."
His shoulders dropped, relieved when he heard her voice.
He drained the rest of what was left in his glass before pouring another three fingers worth of liquor.
"That hasn't stopped you these past two years."
She'd turned twenty-one on Tuesday. They were celebrating tonight with two hundred of their closest friends, an open bar, and a lavish array of dishes— normal Moran fashion.
She laughed. "I think I earned the right once I started getting gray hairs."
"Mere," he breathed as he swirled the liquid in his glass, staring down into the light brown.
He expected her to cross the room, to pull him into a hug, just as she did when she knew he was upset, but there was no sound of heels clicking against the hardwood.
"Come back to the party, Blake."
He shook his head as he set down his glass.
"I can't even look at him, Meredith."
He was home from college for the weekend. He'd flown in early this morning, wanting to surprise them for breakfast, and he was already regretting the trip up the coast, regretting the family he was born into.
He faced her.
She looked stern with her arms crossed over her chest. She pressed her lips together in a firm line and God she looked just like their mother— Same features. Same expressions. The way she stood with her shoulders back and head forward… Even down to the string of white pearls that hung around her neck.
"I saw you talking to Lydia earlier."
He looked into her eyes, and even as he continued to sweat through his shirt, it was as if a chill had swept through the room, numbing his fingers and toes. Tears built in the corners of his eyes, and he felt sick. All the air was sucked from his lungs, and he stumbled forward, hands catching on the back of the sofa.
His eyes focused in on the flames that burned high in the fireplace.
"You knew?"
He turned his head, wanting to see her face as she answered, but her expression was impassive, and she remained silent.
It only fueled his anger.
He straightened and— "Meredith, our father raped a woman!" His arm rose and he pointed towards the far wall.
She arched her perfectly manicured left brow as she stalked towards him slowly.
They were toe to toe when she said, "Don't you ever say that sentence out loud again."
…A young woman. She couldn't be a day older than twenty-four. She worked for their family's company… Well, used to. Something in the media department, a consultant maybe.
"We need to do something."
She frowned. "She's been compensated an appropriate amount."
He couldn't believe his ears. His parents, his dad, he'd always painted them as the villains, but her? His sister? He'd never known her to get out her checkbook when "inconvenienced."
"If this gets leaked to the news outlets—"
"You can't be serious." He turned his head to the side, eyeing her. "A girl was raped," he sneered. "By our father!"
She rolled her eyes, and he'd never been more appalled by her behavior.
She pointed a finger towards her chest. "This will be my business one day, and I'll be damned to let anything taint what's mine."
"Who are you?"
It was as if the world had turned upside down since he'd left for school in late August.
"Is this really the kind of people you want to associate yourself with?" He sidestepped her, and walked towards his father's desk, putting a bit of distance between them. "You're so much more capable of making something better for yourself." She was the most intelligent person he knew. "This isn't right, Meredith."
"It's unfortunate, yes."
He met her eyes. "You may have this girl tied up with lawyers and intimidating her with hush clauses and non-disclosure agreements, but I swear to God I won't stay quiet. I'll go to the press if I have to."
"Then we have a problem."